


Protégé

by Imagining_in_the_Margins



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: BAMF Spencer Reid, Blood, Character Death, Choking, Creampie, Dark Spencer Reid, Dom Spencer Reid, Dom/sub, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Hair-pulling, Handcuffs, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It's about to get dark folks, Knifeplay, Murder, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Self-Insert, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Stabbing, UnSub Reader, Vaginal Sex, prepare yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24807214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins
Summary: Spencer learns something very interesting about his friend when a prolific serial killer, who also happens to be his nemesis, winds up dead.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 7
Kudos: 195





	Protégé

The day Spencer Reid took me home was the greatest day of my life. I’d been following him for months, trying to get him to notice me any way I could. I’d tried cutting my hair, switching my perfume. I’d even changed my entire wardrobe.

It was exhausting, but it all paid off. Because after a long conversation at the bar, Spencer Reid took me home. He practically carried me over the threshold of my home, his hands and mouth unable to separate from me.

He lavished me like I was made of gold and stardust. Very few words were spoken, but his actions told me all that I needed to know. Those broad hands caressed my body so delicately yet so possessively that they stole the breath from my lungs. His mouth breathed life back into me, his tongue exploring the most sensitive skin he could find.

Spencer Reid and I made love for _hours_. I’d never been as satisfied with sex as I was with him. Typically, I would have to kill a man to get the kind of release Spencer could grant me with the simplest movements. So when I woke up in the morning and found him fast asleep next to me, his arms wrapped around me like I was his plush toy, I was ecstatic.

Unfortunately, life got between us. His job got between us. He’d told me that morning that he wasn’t ready for a relationship… yet. He was scared of what kind of danger I might be in, and he had just broken up with his last girlfriend not long before.

I knew about her. She was the one that Cat tried to play with. The mere thought of the two of those women made my blood boil, but I waited until Spencer was gone to scream my frustrations into my pillow. They didn’t deserve him. They didn’t understand him like I did.

The pain was only temporary, I reminded myself. He would be mine soon enough. I just had to get rid of _her_ first. 

Cat had contacted me around the same time as that magical night I spent with him. The sound of her voice disgusted me beyond compare. It’d been years since she even bothered to speak to me, and it wasn’t until she needed me.

But like the stupid bitch I was, I’d answered her call. I always did. I convinced myself this time was different — I wasn’t doing it to help her or get her attention. This time I was going along with her plans because she’d promised she was finally going to leave.

I begged all of the Gods that might exist that it would be true. The last thing I needed while trying to convince Spencer to trust me was for her to try and drag me down with her. She had the tools, and she didn’t need a reason other than her sick desire to see everyone as miserable as she was.

Then again, I understood that hunger, that drive. Because as I sat in the getaway car with her, the woman who had made me everything I was, I wanted nothing more than to snuff out any sign of happiness or joy she might ever feel.

I could tell that she knew it, too.

“So, how’s Spencie?” She asked, twirling a small pocketknife in her fingers as she watched me from the passenger’s seat.

“Spencer’s fine.” I replied with a shrug, refusing to grant her so much as a glance. It was obvious what she was doing; she wanted to poke me over and over again until I gave her the information. She could sense I was hiding something from her.

She knew I had regular contact with Spencer— I’d told her as much. There was no point in hiding it from her. She probably already knew, anyway. I’d figured it would be better to tell her myself and gain some of her trust.

But I should have known that she was insanely possessive when it came to him.

“You seem tense. Do you not like me talking about him?”

It was a proper analysis of my stoic facade. But with a bored pout, I shook my head, “No, it’s fine. Just makes me a little jealous, that’s all.”

“Of me or him?”

“Both.” I responded without any pause, finally turning to look at her with a sweet smile. What a strange habit we had, two psychopaths who constantly felt the need to smile at the other, even when we both knew they were fake.

“Oooh. Good answer. I taught you so well.”

Even after months in solitary and in oversized clothes, Cat was so beautiful. It was that haunting kind of beauty that brought you to your knees while it simultaneously made you want to choke the life out of her.

“So where to, Kitty?” I pushed the thoughts away, scared that she would be able to smell the homicidal intent that was stronger than usual. But Cat wasn’t done yet, deciding to press on the Spencer topic.

“When was the last time you saw him?” She asked, snapping the pocketknife open and closed. Some might call it nerves, but I could feel the hostility rolling off her like exhaust from a tail pipe of a rich running car.

“I don’t know. A couple weeks ago?” It was a lie. I’d seen him the week before, and I definitely knew when.

From the tone of her voice, she could sense my lie but decided it was more fun to figure out the reason for it, instead. “What’d you guys do?” 

“Had coffee. Talked.”

In a way, this was a game for me, too. As dangerous as she was when she was angry, I loved to rile her up. The easiest way to do that was simply withholding the information she wanted the most. And if it involved Spencer Reid, she didn’t just want it — she _needed_ it.

“About what?”

Right on cue.

Turning to her with another saccharine smile, I batted my eyelashes at her in the lovesick manner she was used to. “You.” I cooed. Part of me almost expected her to believe me. She certainly was narcissistic enough.

But she didn’t. “You’re lying.” She spat, pointing the pocketknife at me in a vaguely threatening manner.

“Why does it matter?” I asked, knocking the blade back into the holder with more force than necessary. “We just talked over coffee. Normal, domestic bullshit.”

“Oh my god.” She mumbled, a large grin taking up nearly a third of her face. “You _like_ him.”

“No, I don’t.”

“That’s so adorable.” She spoke over me, clearly bothered by her little discovery.

I sighed, dropping my foot on the gas instead of raising my voice. “I don’t like him. I know he belongs to you.”

“Do you? I’m getting mixed signals here.” She was waving her arms around between us, trying to mimic the man of the hour. I didn’t look at her, recognizing the quickly escalating tension and beginning to calculate my exit strategies.

It’d been awhile since Cat and I actually fought, and none of those had been entirely serious.. Then again, I guess it’s always potentially serious when there are two psychopaths involved, no? There were a number of times when I had wondered if she would actually kill me if I gave her the chance.

But then I would usually just shower her with praise and attention, and she would let it go again. It was so easy.

“Either way, it won’t matter. Now that I’m out again he’ll be bored with you.” Cat scoffed, noticing the way my fingers curled tightly around the steering wheel. “Assuming he isn’t already. You’re not exactly the most _thrilling_ conversationalist.”

“We really enjoy each other’s company.” I felt like my nails would break with the force of the grip I had on the wheel. My knuckles blanched under the pressure, but I kept my voice steady.

“I’m sure it feels that way for you when any guy shows you the slightest bit of attention. You know…” She leaned forward, coming much too close for comfort with a knife in her hand. “He probably pities you.” 

“You don’t even know him.”

“I know more about Spencer Reid than you ever will.” She snapped back, her voice growing louder and her words flowing faster. “And when I see him, I’m going to make sure he takes me right in front of you.”

I don’t know the exact sequence of what happened next, but within the blink of an eye, she was practically standing inside the car, one hand on the wheel and the other on the back of my seat. And in spite of the knife aimed directly at my throat, it wasn’t my life I feared for.

She couldn’t kill me, because if I was dead, she couldn’t play with me anymore. She couldn’t do what she was promising. If she were as smart as everyone claimed she was, she would know to watch her mouth when it came to talking about Spencer.

Cat was one of the few people who knew that it had been years since I’d killed someone. I’d lived a perfectly normal, civilian life for _years_. My dedication to this man was unparalleled, but it had its limits, too.

And one of those limits, the hardest limit, was fucking with my man.

“He can’t resist it!” Cat shouted; her eyes wild in my peripherals. She was laughing as she spoke, “He’s never been able to, and nothing about your pathetic little pout is going to change that!”

I could barely hear her over the rush of blood in my ears. My heartbeat was deafeningly loud, my mind spinning with the desire to run the car off a fucking cliff and end both of our lives. But I didn’t deserve that. I’d been a good girl.

“In fact, I bet if I told him the truth, I could get him to kill you himself.”

The threat brought all of my thoughts to a screeching halt, and my foot fell so hard against the brake that it almost knocked her over. I swerved off the backroad, turning to her with the unbridled rage that had built up over years of repressed urges.

“ **Shut** ** _up_** , you fucking bitch!”

I shifted the car into park, my body moving on instinct as I tumbled backwards out of the car. I couldn’t be in such a confined space; she would definitely be able to best me there. And this wasn’t going to be something quick.

“Now we’re getting somewhere!” She yelled from inside the car, climbing out through the driver’s side and following me into the backwater field.

I spun around on my heels, running my hands through my hair as it whipped around in the loud winds. “Spencer’s only interested in you because he fucking **hates** you!” I screamed, grateful that there was no one else around.

“Is that right? It didn’t feel that way when his tongue was down my throat!” She knew how much I hated this story. She could see it in my eyes and the way my breathing rate increased, my entire body shaking from the rage. “You know I had to push him away from me? If it weren’t for his little girlfriend, he would have fucked me right there.”

“I said **_shut the fuck up_**!”

I acted on instinct, and the next few moments were a blur. All I knew for certain was that I threw my entire body weight at her, and she was the one who hit the ground first. In a flurry of hands around wrists, the dirt around us kicked into a fine cloud.

“Wow, he’s really got you smitten, huh?” She laughed through a busted lip. “Going so far as to try to hurt me? You don’t have the guts.”

We’d been here before. She used to tell me it was the only way to train; the only way to feel. I had to hate someone so much that I wanted to stop them in any way possible. That’s how I felt in that moment, my hands pinning hers to the ground below me.

But it didn’t last long, with her legs quickly wrapping around mine and throwing me to the side. Once she managed to get on top of me, my hands still around her wrists, she held the knife above my throat as she yelled in that husky voice that only came when she felt truly helpless. “You’re just a pathetic little girl who has to follow in my footsteps in **_everything_** you do!”

It was like music to my ears, even through the disgusting words. It wasn’t clear if it was pure adrenaline or the fact that Cat had started to waste away in prison, but she had lost her edge. I could see that her own weakness infuriated her. She wanted to kill me, but I don’t think she had the strength to overpower me.

So I took a calculated risk, egging on her frenzy in the hopes it would distract her into doing something stupid.

“Spencer _loves_ me!” I said through clenched teeth. Through the leather gloves I wore, I could feel the resistance against my nails that bent against her skin.

She was laughing again, that full-bodied, maniacal laugh that told me now, she thought she was winning. “You’re completely delusional!”

Tears stung at my eyes, her laugh searing into my brain and drowning out any rational thoughts. Like what would I do with her body if I killed her? Would I just leave her here, to rot off the side of the road like the animal she is?

Huh, just another dead cat as roadkill, I thought. Maybe I should throw her on the road.

It was impossible to focus, my brain struggling between fantasizing about how great it would be to see her take her last breath and listening to the way she _kept fucking laughing_.

“Stop laughing at me before I fucking make you!”

Before she responded, I spat in her face. Although she smiled in response, it distracted her enough that I could flip us over again. I heard the knife drop to the ground, the metal striking a rock. This time, my body weight rested on her knees, preventing her from kicking me off.

She stared up at me almost like she was bored. The sight sparked something in me, an anger and sadness at the fact that nothing I ever did would make her think I was worthy of her attention.

I would never be enough for her.

She wouldn’t believe me, but that wasn’t why I was crying. It wasn’t the fact that my mentor was below me, having failed to do the one thing she always beat me at. It wasn’t even the fact I wanted to kill her despite having spent so long enamored by her.

No, the reason I was crying was because I saw so much potential in her death. Because I would never be enough for her, but I could be enough for Spencer. It was the easiest decision in the world.

“Killing me won’t make him want you.” Her voice broke through, steady and tired. She even dropped her hands, her whole body giving in. “He’ll never want you.”

It was a trick, though. A trick I knew well, because she was the one who taught it to me. The second I lowered my guard; she’d take her shot. But I wasn’t lowering shit, because it wasn’t just about me anymore.

With a bittersweet smile, I released her hands, bringing both hands to her neck in a brutal, vice-like grip. She returned a grin, and in a way, I think she was proud of me. But I also knew that she was reliving the strikingly similar moment she’d had with Spencer. She’d talked about it enough; I knew how often it came to her mind.

“No one’s here to stop me, like they stopped him.” I ground out through clenched teeth.

She tried to scratch at me, but the leather gloves she’d employed as a forensic countermeasure didn’t let her. She wouldn’t be able to leave any clues of the fact that I was here at all.

“I’m going to kill you.” I laughed, my hands tightening with a strength I didn’t even know I had. “But first… Kitty, I have something to confess.”

There was an attempt to say something, but the words ended at my fingers. I couldn’t stop smiling now, finally staring at the end of the road. Soon, it would be over. I wouldn’t have to worry about the calls, the secrets, the looking over my shoulder.

She would dead, and very few people would care. I would be one of them, of course. But I’d warned her to leave me alone. I’d told her to leave Spencer alone.

Even just thinking his name gave me a newfound enthusiasm, and I ignored the way she tried to grab my face and wrench my arms away. I couldn’t even see her anymore, thinking back to the way it felt for him to hold me.

I could hear his voice in my head, urging me to end Cat’s miserable existence so that we could finally be together. I wasn’t delusional at all; he wanted this, too. He just might not know it yet.

Which brought me back to the woman now writhing underneath me. I don’t think I’d ever seen her look that scared. Still, even now I could see a plea for me to finish her story.

But there was something I needed her to know first.

“Spencer _already_ fucked me.”

The look on her face! It was even more satisfying than I’d ever imagined. There was the frantic searching for signs of deception, followed by the rage that had started to fade. She became more insistent then, struggling to free herself despite knowing that she had even less strength now.

“And it had nothing to do with you. You were the furthest thing from his mind while he held me down and _ravaged_ me.” I continued, happily laughing as I felt her trachea give way beneath my hands. “He called my name _over_ and _over_ again. He told me that I was beautiful while he fucked me.”

She couldn’t talk back anymore, having to listen to the words as blood sputtered onto her lips. The tiniest wheezing sounds were barely audible, and I released her hands when I saw her lips start to turn the prettiest shade of blue.

Her eyes followed my hands, which slowly found the knife she’d so carelessly dropped before. I ran my gloved finger over the blade lovingly, picturing Spencer’s hands doing the same to me.

Breathing a deep sigh of relief, I brought the knife up with a final, cathartic laugh.

“And it was so… **fucking** _…_ ** _good_**.”

—

Two days had passed since I left Cat in the middle of a Virginia field, and the news was absolutely _buzzing_ with her name. Each time I heard it, I experienced the worst conflicting emotions.

See, I felt an immense pride and happiness at the thought of what I’d done, but it brought with it an incredible rage. Because every time I heard her stupid fucking name, I knew that Spencer was hearing it, too. And I was so tired of him being distracted by someone that literally doesn’t even matter anymore.

So, like the thoughtful friend I am, I manufactured an opportunity to run into JJ. I needed to know what was happening in his life considering he was only answering half of my phone calls, and only muttering a few short excuses before he was gone again.

JJ was only marginally helpful, but she gave me an excuse to go see Spencer, so it wasn’t a complete waste of time. She just told me that he was working insanely hard to try and figure out where Cat could have gone.

On one hand, I understood his paranoia. She’d gone for his throat a few times, so of course he’d want to protect his family. But on the other hand, his obsession with finding her filled me with a hatred that was rather… unbecoming.

I decided to put a stop to it directly. The easiest way to do that, I figured, was simply showing up at his doorstep with treats. Which is how Spencer found me on his doorstep, holding two cups of coffee and a small box of donuts.

“Good morning, wonderful.” I chirped, waltzing straight past him into his apartment.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here?” The words were said through a tired, disbelieving smile. Setting the box and drink holder onto the table, I pulled out his cup before I turned back to him.

“A little birdie or two told me that someone has been working himself to death and could use some company.”

At first, he just stared at the drink in my hands. It was the first time so far that I’d seen just how true JJ’s words were. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all — probably for a couple days. The sight made my heart ache. 

“With coffee?” He laughed, taking the cup from me and not protesting when I stepped closer to him, my hand coming up to cup his cheek.

“I never said I was a good influence.” I whispered, my eyes reflecting the most sympathy a person like me is capable of. I knew what he was going through; this was hard for me, too! Not only was my mentor dead, she’d made me do it.

The look worked, and after a brief awkwardness, the two of us were curled up on his couch. He insisted on sitting on the other end, but my knees still touched his thigh and he didn’t move away.

We talked about everything going on in his life. He told me about Cat, and all the different ways she’d ruined his life. But that wasn’t all we talked about, thank God. He also told me more stories about his childhood, about his family, about his friends.

He told me I was easy to talk to, that he felt like I understood him and never judged him. He thanked for me that by placing a hand on my thigh. I shuddered at the contact, my entire body moving forward into his touch.

“You’ve got a lot going on.” I hummed, resting my arm on the back of the couch as I scooted closer to him. The more I moved, the higher his hand roamed. “What do you do to destress?”

I felt my breath catch in my throat when he finally moved himself, sliding his hand over my hip and onto my lower back, pulling me even closer. “I’m not familiar with the term.” He joked, watching me with the same hungry stare I’d seen that night we shared together.

Taking a moment to bask in his gaze, I chewed on my bottom lip, unable to stop from curling into a smile. “Hmmm. I don’t know if I believe that.”

I swung my leg over his lap, coming to straddle his lap. If I had a bit more humility, I might have pretended I was shocked when he pulled me closer to him. But I wasn’t surprised. I could see it in his eyes the same way I could feel it in the way his other hand ran up and down my thigh.

“You seemed pretty good at it with me before.” I reminded him, tapping his nose gently. But he closed his eyes, and I could feel his thoughts tearing him away from me again.

“That was different.” His voice was hoarse, a testament to how exhausted he really was. I wanted so badly to be able to tell him that she was gone and give him some reprieve from the torment she’d put him through.

I tried to tell him as much with two gentle hands on his face. I rubbed his cheeks with my thumbs, hoping to bring him back to me. In a way, I did, his eyes opening again. I could feel the way his breath left him all at once at the sight of me, sitting on his lap and granting him the softness he deserved.

“Was it?” I whispered, running my hands through his hair and relishing the way he sighed at my touch.

But it was what he said next that took my breath away. With another sharp inhale, he turned his face to speak into the skin of my wrist still resting next to him. “I wasn’t worried about you then.”

My heart nearly stopped, the world spinning around me. Spencer Reid was… _worried_ about _me_?

“You weren’t?” I said with a chuckle, dropping my hands down to ball up the fabric of his T-shirt. So much of me wanted to just rip it off of him right there, and let my body say the words. But I took my time, knowing that we’d have the rest of our lives to share now that Cat was gone.

Still… what he’d said was a lie, and I needed him to know what I’d felt that night and still knew to be true now.

“Because, honestly… last time I could tell that you were holding back.” I released his shirt, smoothing my hands over the wrinkled fabric and onto his shoulders. “But you don’t need to do that with me.”

He licked his lips, and I couldn’t tell if it was in hesitation or hunger. I didn’t care either way; I was ready to pull that beast from inside of him. I wanted to feel the untamed ferocity of everything he contained. I wanted it to devour me and turn me into nothing at his feet.

My breathing was heavy as the thoughts caused a warmth to bloom through my body, my hips gently rocking backwards as my back arched so that our hearts could be closer. His fingertips pressed into me, although softly, still scared that they might bruise.

“I would do _anything_ for you, Spencer.” I purred, moving my hands to his face and letting the gravitational force of our desire pull us together. I didn’t even need to exert any effort, we drifted together like two stars that were meant to collide in the night.

But just before our lips could meet again, this time in broad daylight and no alcohol in our systems, life cruelly tore us apart again. Cat tore us apart again.

His phone was ringing, and he turned his face away from me with the knowledge that if he didn’t, we wouldn’t be able to stop ourselves from going all the way. We’d be tangled together for hours and nothing could separate us then.

“Don’t answer it.” I begged, wanting him to choose that option instead of her. “Stay with me, instead.”

“I-I have to. She— She could hurt someone.” His voice broke, and I watched his beautiful Adam’s apple bob in his throat while his voice went hushed. “She could try to hurt you.”

The words made my heart flutter enough that when he lifted my leg to remove me, I couldn’t be upset. It brought back memories of Cat telling me I was delusional for believing he cared for me.

I hoped hell was real, just so she could hear it.

“Hello?”

I gracefully took my previous seat on his couch, my eyes following him as he walked away. He didn’t want me to hear what was said, but I didn’t need to.

“She’s… what?” The disbelief brought another smile to my face, and I dreamily watched his reactions now. He couldn’t see the way joy sparkled in my eyes. “D-Do… Do we know what happened?”

Fate was on my side, causing him to turn around so that I could see the mix of emotions flickering in his eyes at the news. I saw so many things, the most notable of which was relief. Unfortunately, since he was looking at me, I couldn’t look as happy as I wanted to. Not like he could really see through the shock, anyway.

“Send me the address. I’m on my way.” He said quickly, rushing to grab his keys and wallet from the table before hanging up the phone.

It was like he’d forgotten I was there at all. When he walked past me, I lightly grabbed his arm. He stopped, not because my grip was tight or that I pulled him, but because my touch alone brought him back to me.

“What happened?” I asked sweetly, rubbing my thumb against the smooth underside of his wrist.

Spencer looked down at me, confusion and concern in his features. “Cat’s… dead.” He muttered, running his hand over his face to wipe the words away.

“Isn’t that… a good thing?” I was cautious with my question, my eyes narrowed but my body language inviting.

“What?”

It was his disbelief in response that pissed me off. What did he mean, _what_?

“Didn’t she try to kill your mother? Didn’t she— she ordered someone to rape you!” Any attempt to control my voice failed horribly, but the shaking and frantic looks would surely hide any side of guilt. How could he blame me for hating her after he’d just bared his soul to me?

“She got you sent to prison. She almost got you killed, Spencer! If you ask me, I’d say good riddance to the bitch, it sounds like she had it coming!” 

The only sound left in the room was my angry, heavy breathing. He stared at me with a vacancy in his eyes that only partially sealed his suspicions and confusion at my response.

It was hard to keep myself calm, knowing that Cat had once again ruined my plans. She was always there, even when she was dead.

But Spencer was too distracted to care, and after a moment his keys shook in his hand as he started to move again. “If someone killed her, then that means there’s someone else to worry about. Cat’s not stupid. She’s not easy to kill, trust me.”

_Oh, Spencer, if only you knew._

“She’s not worth your time.”

If I sounded like I was going to cry, it’s because I was. I still wasn’t sure if it was from anger or sadness. I just didn’t want him to leave for her. “You shouldn’t kill yourself over her. Y-you can be happy now! She won’t bother us—“

The word caught in my throat, but he’d already heard it. A softness formed over his features, and he stepped closer to me while I corrected myself.

“You. She won’t bother you anymore.”

What happened next felt so much like a dream, I almost didn’t believe it. With both hands on my face, he brought our lips together into a breathtaking kiss.

My arms wrapped around his neck so quickly, I didn’t even feel them move. All I could feel was him. Everything about him overwhelmed my senses as I collapsed in his embrace. He caught me, just like he always did.

The kiss ended too soon. Our lips stuck together until they couldn’t any longer, and I tried to pull him back, but he didn’t let me.

“There.” He whispered in the little space between us, “When this is over, I’ll give you what you want.”

I felt like there were stars visible in my eyes, my heart beating so hard I thought it might burst through my chest. I looked into those hazel eyes and found nothing hiding.

“I’ll show you everything.” He said just as quietly, his fingers dragging over my cheek bones until they fell away.

“Promise me, Spencer.” I begged, desperate to secure our fate. He smiled.

“Of course. I promise.”

—

“I already told the others years ago. I don’t have anything to say about that girl.”

The dim, flickering lights of the man’s shitty apartment building were straight out of a horror movie, which seemed fitting to Spencer. After all, not many ex-felons lived in luxury - especially not ones who went in hiding after almost being murdered by a serial killer.

The lonely, dark surroundings would keep others away, just like the man wanted. Spencer didn’t particularly want to be there, either, but there was no other choice. He leaned forward, trying to keep his eyes on the man’s eyes rather than the large scar that stretched across his neck.

“I understand this is hard for you. But… You’re our only chance of catching her right now.”

The man didn’t seem to care. He tapped his fingers and bounced his leg, his eyes boring through Spencer’s with an alarming ferocity. Behind that anger, though, was a very real and understandable fear. That was a fear he could exploit.

“She came out of a 5 year hiatus to kill her old partner, which means she might be pursuing old vendettas and people from her past life.”

He chuckled darkly, looking up at the only halfway sympathetic FBI agent as he asked, “You think she’s coming for me?”

“I don’t have any reason to think that, but I also can’t promise you that she won’t.” Spencer swallowed, noting the hesitance that was slowly beginning to melt away. “You’re the only one she failed to kill. That’s a pretty big loose end.”

The man’s leg stopped moving, his hand dragging over the table like he could see something in the wood that Spencer couldn’t. There was a wistfulness in his stare, his memory bringing back a slew of disturbing images that he wouldn’t talk about.

“She was such a beautiful girl. I should’ve known she would be trouble.” He muttered, another laugh coming from his cruel, sarcastic grin. 

“How did you meet her?” It was a necessary question to determine whether his story was consistent. Spencer had read basically everything he could about the case, but it was hard when this man had only given the bare minimum of details. He had his suspicions as to why.

“At the bar. She was obviously underage. Probably about 16.”

“How old were you?”

And there it was. Spencer knew the answer, and the man knew that. Leaning back, he crossed his arms over his chest for just a second before one hand raised to rub the scar across his neck. “I didn’t agree to talk to you so you could judge me.”

“I’m trying to figure out why she might have targeted you.” Spencer explained, unable to hide the disgust that still bled through his voice.

“Well, I might’ve done that for her. Her friend was obviously trying to get her to agree to spend some time with me outside alone. She didn’t want to.”

Spencer could picture the bar, as well as the young Cat who sat inside of it. Unlike her friend, she was allowed to be there. But what he didn’t entirely understand was why Cat, who had already taken up her illustrious role as a sadistic hitwoman, wouldn’t be present when the kill happened.

“So how did you two end up alone?”

“I waited for her.” He drawled, his eyes glazing over as he stared at the wall behind Spencer. “When she left, her friend made it easy. She just let me take her.”

Spencer’s hands turned to fists, his eyes narrowing as his mind continued picturing the scene. He could see a young girl, trying to apprentice another killer, being taken away by force.

Of course, that had been their plan the whole time. It was clear they had been orchestrating a rape. Because if they could prove he was a bad man, his death would be justified. It was a means to an end. But still, even knowing that this girl had an urge to kill, he felt for her.

He could see the way Cat’s face would form a grin, waving to her friend. She would either come out a success, having made her first kill and thereby proving herself worthy of Cat’s mentorship, or she would come back even more broken.

Spencer shook away the thought, sighing as he continued, “Where did you go?”

“Not far. Just down an alley a couple buildings over. The music was loud enough that no one could hear her.”

They couldn’t hear her scream, Spencer finished in his head. No one would know to come help the 16 year old girl crying for help.

“That’s not where you were found,” was what he said out loud.

“No, it wasn’t. After I tried to have fun with her there, she started to get into it. I figured that she must like to be manhandled. Putting up a fight for fun. Decided to take her back to my place.”

It was hard to feel bad for him while he described something that Spencer couldn’t believe. But he made it easier by never removing his hand from his neck, recalling the moment he almost died. Feeling the mark that she left.

Spencer tried not to be proud of her for standing up for herself. He was still a victim, after all. She’d planned for him to have the reaction he did. He didn’t want to hear any more details that would make him feel for the man in front of him. He wasn’t here to help him. It was selfish, but this man was alive, and probably not in danger.

“Did you notice anything unique about her?”

“I try not to think about her if I don’t have to.” He was shaking his head too hard, a clear sign that he was suppressing his thoughts. But Spencer wouldn’t let him forget. He needed him to remember.

“Did she have any distinguishing marks?”

It was like a lightbulb went off in his head. He turned to Spencer, his hand moving to the back of his neck now, instead. “Now that you mention it… Yeah, there was something. She had a burn on the back of her neck. It was pretty new. Must’ve just happened a couple days before.”

“A burn?” His face twisted into a grimace while he tried to picture what the man described. A sudden, uneasy feeling blossomed in his stomach. He knew someone who had a scar in that exact location.

But there was no reason to believe he knew the unsub - and it seemed unlikely that the woman this man described would insert herself into the lives of federal agents. Unlike Cat, she didn’t seem to thrive on the attention of law enforcement or the general public.

In fact, it was like she didn’t want to be seen at all; especially after Cat’s imprisonment. Spencer had monitored her contact for a while, but had never seen anything suspicious. She appeared to have cut herself off from Cat almost completely. It wasn’t what he was used to seeing with Cat; people were usually enamored with her.

It would take something big to draw this woman away from her. Something like an extreme betrayal or a shifted focus of the obsession… A level of obsession that would come between the two women and would certainly be obvious to the object being fawned over.

(Y/n)’s face popped into his head, but he tried to will it away.

“Yeah. Lookedlike a cattle brand. One of the hearts.” The man finished with a shrug, not noticing the way Spencer had become absorbed in his words. “She said she did it herself, but I didn’t understand how she could’ve in that spot or with that much pressure. Figured she was just that into pain.”

Lost in his thoughts, but still taking in the new information, he cleared his throat that suddenly felt tight. “Is there anything else distinct that you remember?”

“Kind of. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Spencer could barely hear him over the sound of the ticking of the clock on the wall that got louder, his heart pounding at two, three times the speed. “What was it?”

He could hear her voice in his head.

‘ _She won’t bother us—! You. She won’t bother you anymore_.’ The slip of her tongue had meant much less to him then than it did now.

Her body was dancing through his thoughts, the way his fingers ghosted over the Medusa tattoo on the back of her neck hiding a raised scar. He could feel her nails digging into his back, her breath on his ear when she asked him a question that he hadn’t stopped thinking about.

The way she was all consuming when he fucked her, the way she snuck into his life so swiftly and cleverly. Her kind smile when she spoke with his mother, the way she would play with Henry.

Was it all a lie? Was she capable of something like the love she seemed to feel for him and his family?

She’d called him honey, and he remembered thinking a bee was a fitting animal for her. He thought about how, if a second queen honeybee arrived at a colony and wasn’t rejected by the worker bees, the two would fight until only one remained.

“Right before she brought out the knife, she asked me something. She sounded so excited…”

“What was it?” He felt the words more than heard them, his throat suddenly dry as his breathing got more rapid.

The man across from him was also lost in memories of the same woman. He locked eyes with Spencer like he could see the torture happening inside of him.

“She asked me, ‘ _You havin’ fun, honey_?’”

—

Each second that passed without seeing Spencer felt like a lifetime. Most days I wasn’t even able to focus on my work, and each night I ended up laying in my bed, dressed to the nines and staring at the ceiling in the hopes he’d appear to follow through on his promise.

The only flaw in my plan was that he’d never find the person who killed Cat. I’d made sure that every forensic countermeasure was performed. I’d learned from the best on how to get away with murder.

His team, although dedicated to figuring out who it was, had bigger fish to fry. There were so many more dangerous people than me. No one would miss Cat Adams. Except Spencer, apparently.

It still tore me apart, to know he was searching so hard for her killer. But I knew it wasn’t done out of love; it was done out of hate, just like the rest of their relationship. Luckily, though, the hate would exhaust him before our love did. He would get tired, and eventually come home to me. And once we were together, I’d make sure he forgot about her forever.

That fateful day, I was sprawled over my couch, drinking my third glass of wine as I stared at the clock on the wall, literally watching the time pass me by. It would only be a little bit longer before I gave up, crawling into bed to admit defeat for the day. I glanced at the half empty bottle, wondering if I should just finish it before I heard a sound that knocked the breath from my lungs.

The soft, familiar knock of Spencer Reid’s hands against my door caused goosebumps to ripple over my skin. I nearly dropped my glass when I darted from my seat to the door. I stopped myself just in time to calm my racing heart, opening the door with a much more composed appearance.

“Spencer! It’s so nice to see you.” I practically purred, immediately stepping out of the entrance to allow him passage. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Can I come inside?” He asked like it wasn’t already obvious. There was a slight nervousness to his voice that I found both concerning and endearing. He almost sounded upset with me.

Stepping away, I gestured inside. “Of course. My home is your home. I imagine you remember your way around from last time you were here.”

Spencer passed me but didn’t go very far. He stood in front of me while he shut the door, turning the lock with a satisfying click. I felt like I was on fire, my body leaning towards him even as he came closer. When he brought his hand up to my chin, my eyelids fluttered shut, unable to process the emotions stirring inside me.

“What do you remember from that night?” He whispered, his hand now moving to brush my hair out of my face and away from my neck. His fingers moved over the tattoo that rested against my spine, but I didn’t think anything of it. Despite what people believed, he was a very touchy feely man when he wanted to be.

When he was with me.

“ _Everything_.” The word came out more like a sigh. Shortly after he got his answer, though, he disappeared. I watched him make his way to my kitchen, opening the cabinet to grab himself a wine glass.

I stood at the entryway to the kitchen, gripping the wall in an attempt not to jump the man before he was ready. It was so hard, with him looking so domestic. “But I’d be happy for a refresher. You did promise me, you know.”

“I’m a man of my word.” He turned to me when he spoke, his hands resting behind him on the counter. “But the case isn’t over yet.”

“Oh?” It wasn’t news to me, but I could play along. When he raised a finger in a beckoning motion, I walked over to him cautiously, trying to drum up some sympathy for his hard work that would go unfinished. Unfortunately, it was hidden behind the desire that permeated my every move.

I stopped just in front of him, my hands behind my back to stop myself from touching him. I wanted it to be his idea. I wanted him to take what he wanted. I wanted him to take what was his.

“Can I help?”

His hand was back on my face, his thumb toying with my bottom lip as he looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Yeah, I think you can.” He muttered, licking his lips and swallowing down something I couldn’t place until it hit me.

_Rage_.

An anger so powerful that it was as if it rolled off of him and seeped into my skin. I could feel it in the way he held himself back, how his finger pressed just a little too hard. His nostrils flared and his brows furrowed while he tried to concentrate on just one thing.

“ _Anything_ for you, Spencer.”

I could hardly breathe, the anticipation causing every nerve in my body to go haywire, my fight or flight instinct alerting me of the danger, but I couldn’t be bothered to listen. Not when Spencer stood before me, holding me with the perfect mixture of tenderness and hatred. I wanted to feel it all.

“Just answer one question for me, would you?” 

I knew what was about to happen, but it didn’t stop me from enjoying the sound of the knife sliding from the block behind him. I closed my eyes, shuddering at the way he gripped my arm, spinning me around so that my back was against his chest.

He brought the knife to my throat so quickly, I hadn’t even taken a breath when I felt the harsh, cold metal side press against my skin. There was a brief moment of silence, the only sound in the room that of his heavy breath against my hair.

“Does it feel as good for you on the other end of the knife?”

Unable to talk through the rush of adrenaline, my back arched into his body, a soft whimper escaping my lips when I rested my head against his chest. It gave him the answer he was looking for, and soon enough he was taunting me again.

“This isn’t what you did to those men, though, is it? You liked to sit on their chest or their dick while you slit their throat.”

My hands were grabbing his arm that was wrapped around me, but I didn’t pull him away. I basked in the warmth he provided, trying to memorize the moment. And even though I was out of breath, I managed to get a few words out.

“I’d be happy to sit on yours, too, Spencer.” The distraction appeared to be working. He could pretend like he was angry, but I could feel his arousal straining against my backside.

Still, he tried to keep up the façade of stoicism. “Why did you kill her?” He growled against my ear, earning a small giggle from myself.

“I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about.”

Spencer decidedly did _not_ like that answer, and within a few seconds he’d spun me around again, slamming my back against the wall. The paintings beside me rattled, nearly falling from their already precarious positions.

Pressing the knife to me again, I glanced down to let him know that I was perfectly aware of the reason why he’d changed positions. This time to get my attention, he shifted the weapon so that the sharpness of the blade was against my skin.

“Tell me why you killed Cat, or I swear to god, I’ll never touch you again.”

I’m not sure why the way he said it got to me, but it did. “I did it for you!” I snapped, my body tensing under his control. “She was going to try to hurt you again!”

“That’s not what happened.” Despite his words, it was obvious he believed me; he just didn’t want to.

“I’m telling you the truth!” I said beginning to struggle under the knife, mostly just to see what he would do with it. “She made me help her get out of prison and she promised me she’d leave you alone, but then she started taunting me about how she was going to take you away from me!”

He paused, his Adam’s apple bobbing and his tongue darting out from between his lips before he settled on a few words I’d never believe.

“I don’t belong to you, (y/n).”

“You kind of do.” I laughed, my smile only growing when he pressed up on the knife, my skin now itching for the sharpness that would follow. But it didn’t, his hands shaking with restraint and something else.

“Think about it, Spencer. Everything you’ve ever wanted to do to her, you could have with me.” I taunted; my hands now free to run over his chest. His eyes flickered for the briefest millisecond. He was still trying to fight himself.

“I would never try to hurt you or the people you love.” I continued, urging him to listen to his instincts and let that rage loose. He was either going to feel so strongly that he ravaged me or killed me. Honestly, I was fine with either at that point.

“The team adores me. So does Diana. Remember? We had a wonderful time togeth—“

I never got to finish the thought, because Spencer’s hand slipped in his haste, dragging a shallow cut into the sensitive skin. I gasped, my eyes rolling back as I imagined what he saw. The small beads of blood were gathering on the knife. I knew that perspective well.

“ **Don’t** talk about my family.”

“I could _be_ your family, Spencer!” I cried, balling his shirt in my hands, trying to bring him closer. Although he didn’t move, I saw the longing in his eyes. His self-preservation was stubborn, but I could be just as persistent.

“I would never judge you. We wouldn’t need _any_ secrets.” I cooed, moving my neck to drag the metal through the blood he had already drawn. The action caused another shallow cut, but this time Spencer removed the pressure.

He didn’t want to hurt me. At least, not badly enough to risk my life. It was exactly the kind of sweet gesture I expected of him. My finger traced his jaw, feeling the muscles tense under my touch.

“That knife to my throat doesn’t mean shit to me. I killed for you, Spencer. I’d die for you, too.”

He’d never looked at me as carefully as he did in that moment.

“Do it. If that’s what you want, I want you to do it.” I could feel the knife trembling in his hands, ghosting over the red smearing left behind from his actions. Taking his hand in mine, I turned the blade back onto myself. “You know I’m telling the truth.” 

Without moving the metal, his mouth found mine in a heated kiss that couldn’t be compared to anything I’d ever felt before. I gasped into the contact, a desperate moan slipping out when his tongue came to mingle with mine.

I tangled my fingers in his hair like I had before, fervently pulling on the fine brunette locks. The longer it went on, the more panicked my heart became. The sharp tool against my pulse grew farther away, and I whined at its retreat.

“You told me you wouldn’t hold back.” I rasped into his lips. “You promised me, Spencer.”

“ **Shut the fuck up**.” He hissed, dropping the knife down to our sides. It didn’t go unused for very long though, because within seconds he’d hiked up my nightgown and grabbed the band of my barely-there lacy underwear I’d worn for this exact scenario.

Once he slid the knife between my hip and the fabric, my lungs drained of all air, my head hitting the wall as it fell back.

With more force than necessary, he sliced through the band, cutting a long but shallow cut against my stomach.

“ _Fuck!_ ” I moaned, practically hyperventilating as his eyes were stuck on the red liquid about to stain the white negligee. I opened my eyes in hopes that his face would calm me down enough that I wouldn’t pass out, but what I found only made my heart flutter more.

There was an undeniable hunger in his eyes that bounced between the knife in his hand and the new streak across my stomach. When he saw the way that I was smiling at him, he suddenly dropped the weapon.

I bit back another moan, taking his hand in mind and leading him to remove the little fabric I still wore. But before we got there, his hand slid across the wound, smearing the blood up my chest. The action elicited a whimper that was born more out of desire than pain, but he didn’t care.

“You deserve worse than that.” He muttered, pressing me into the wall with the same hand.

“Punish me, then.”

His eyes were narrowed, but there was something playful in them. His tongue curled in his mouth before he bit his lip. “You should be a lot more scared than you are, sweetheart.”

“And you should be thanking me for killing that bitch.” I said through a clenched jaw, my body having a visceral reaction to the thought of her.

Luckily, Spencer seemed to have a similar reaction. Although the knife was on the floor, he used his hands to practically tear the nightgown open. He didn’t even bother trying to remove it from my shoulders, satisfied with the skin he had access to.

“You think she could make you feel this good? Do you think she could make you do this?” I laughed, sighing when he brought a hand to my chest, roughly grabbing hold of my breast to keep my position against the wall. Not like I wanted to move. I loved being stuck between this rock and a hard place.

But it was what he did next that truly intrigued me. I heard the handcuffs first, the chiming of the metal sounding too much like music to me.

“Trust me, Spencer. You’re going to want my hands free.” I joked, earning a dastardly grin from the man in front of me.

“They aren’t for your hands.”

Before I could respond, he’d grabbed both cuffs, stretching the chain over my still wet neck and pressing me back against the wall.

“Is this what you wanted?” He growled, bringing his face just inches in front of mine, “You want me to _hurt_ you?”

I tried to smile because I wanted to more than anything, but each time my lips started to curl, he’d press harder against the slippery red surface, eliciting a jolt of pain that caused my mouth to drop open again.

“You look so fucking pathetic. You think I belong to you?”

There was that twinkle in his eyes again, the desire to do something more. I had my suspicions by the way he kept looking at my open mouth, and the idea was thrilling. I could barely breathe, and I was convinced the pain from the metal slipping against split skin was the only thing keeping me awake.

Slowly, I opened my mouth more, tilting my head back and presenting my tongue to him with what I’d hoped would be a clear message. Sure enough, after a second of pause, Spencer granted me the first surprise of the night when he spit directly onto my tongue, watching me choke on the extra saliva for a moment longer before finally letting me breathe.

He tore the handcuffs away, tossing them onto the counter beside me, replacing them with his hand on my chin. Forcing me to look up at him, he enunciated each word so clearly in such a low register, I almost didn’t recognize it as his voice.

“You’re the pawn here. I use you when I fucking want to. You don’t have any power or any choice, do you hear me?”

I was nodding before he even finished his sentence, but he halted the movement.

“ **Speak up**. I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m yours.” My words were so enthusiastic, there was no way he could ever doubt them. The smile on my face was positively beaming, my eyes barely able to stay open through the euphoria. “I’m yours to do _whatever_ you want.”

By the time his hands reached between my legs, I was already drenched with desire. A twisted smile appeared on Spencer’s face in response, and he was clearly pleased that he could have such an effect on me.

My own hands were struggling to undo his bottoms, and he offered no help. Instead, he roughly inserted two fingers at once, his mouth dragging over my jaw when I shouted in a mixture of pleasure and pain. He wasn’t even pretending to be gentle, staying true to his word and taking whatever he wanted.

Eventually, I managed to remove his pants. No sooner than they dropped down did he press his entire body weight against me on the wall. I couldn’t breathe, his fingers still working inside of me while my lungs were crushed from the force.

Capturing my lips with his, he dug his teeth into my bottom lip so hard I could taste blood. I cried out at the sensation, a little shocked by how easily he overwhelmed my senses. Normally, I’d be able to follow what was happening. But each time he touched me it was like a shock from a fucking taser.

“ _Fuck me_.” It wasn’t meant as an order, and in fact, I whispered it without thinking. But Spencer took the opportunity. Removing his fingers and replacing them with the head of his dick, he thrust into me without an ounce of concern for adjustment.

I cried out, my face contorting in pain, my nails digging into the back of his neck and shoulders. But the grimace didn’t last long, quickly morphing into a large smile.

“God, you feel even better than I remembered.” Spencer groaned, one hand on my hip and the other inspecting the damaged skin around my neck.

My breathing rate increased exponentially when he made a loose handle around my neck. But he didn’t squeeze; he took the blood covered hand and clamped it over my mouth and nose, cutting off my air supply in a different way.

“Why is that, hm?” He teased, slamming his hips into mine. His eyes scoured my face for any sign of displeasure, but all he found was an unparalleled love and loyalty. He smiled before he proposed his theory. “Maybe it’s because you’re not running your fucking mouth.”

My hips were bucking wildly against his hand, struggling to get more from him. Granting me the brutality I sought, his pace and strength between each movement increased dramatically.

“You don’t even know what to do with yourself.” He growled into my ear, “No one else could handle what a stupid, filthy whore you are. That’s why you have to fucking kill them.”

As if on cue, the painting beside us collapsed to the floor, the glass shattering across the tile. I tried to gasp but couldn’t get any air from behind his palm.

Under the guise of sympathy or pity, or something else, Spencer removed his hand long enough for me to take just half a deep breath. But then his hand was back over my neck, squeezing harshly enough to draw more blood.

“I think it’s time you thank me for not ending your miserable fucking existence right now.” He muttered, not once slowing down. I tried to speak through my broken moans, but all that came out were whimpers.

I batted my eyes at him, a little pout on my lips as my hands clawed over his skin much like Cat had tried to do to me.

Spencer wasn’t giving up though, and he pressed his forehead against mine while he ordered again, “Say it. **Thank me**.”

His hand got looser just for a second, and I tried to get the word out, but it was cut off when he pressed down on my throat.

“What was that?”

Unable to swallow or make any noises, I choked on saliva and tears that were now sliding down my face. Still, he chuckled at the way my mouth never once stopped smiling.

“You’re not grateful at all.” He whispered, licking the dried blood that had gathered on his lips from kissing the wounds he’d made on my neck. “You don’t deserve for me to fuck you. You don’t deserve _anything_.”

Despite the words, he continued to fuck me into the wall with the utmost passion. When he removed his hand this time, he didn’t bring it back.

The sudden availability of oxygen made me feel even more delirious, and my instincts demanded large breaths. But between them, Spencer forced his mouth on mine, stealing the breath I did manage to take in.

I could taste my blood in his mouth, and the thought alone caused my eyes to roll to the back of my head, my hands tangling in his hair once again.

“You’re lucky your body feels so fucking good.” He cursed into my mouth, followed with a loud moan. “Even after all the disgusting things you’ve done with it.”

Now that I could make noises freely, I laughed. “Obviously not disgusting enough for you to stop.” I joked, biting my bloodied bottom lip when he raised his face to stare into my eyes.

“Because you _can’t_ stop, Spencer.”

“Do you really think now is the time to taunt me?” His words would have been more threatening if they weren’t said out of breath, his muscles tensing with each movement. I could tell that he was getting close to his end.

“I can’t wait to shove my dick so far down your throat that you choke.” He groaned, burying his face in my neck for a moment. My whole body was trembling against him, one leg raised to pull him closer with each thrust.

“But we’ll have to save that for another day. For now…” His breath was hot on my ear, and his voice was filled with a paradoxical softness. I shuddered at the mention of us doing this _another day_.

But he wasn’t done drawing out goosebumps and palpitations, nipping at my ears when he whispered. “Tell me what you want, you fucking bitch. Tell me what you thought killing Cat would get you.” 

The levels of bliss that I was experiencing before multiplied tenfold at his offer. He wanted to hear what I _wanted_. That meant that there was a chance I could _actually get it_.

“I want what she always wanted from you.” I said so quickly that the words all bled together, my hands struggling to grab his face and bring his lips to mine. I watched the realization dawn on him, his eyes widening and softening so drastically I swore it gave him whiplash.

“…What?” He asked, breaking the scene and that dominant personality with a stuttered breath. “What did you just say?”

I listened to our heartbeats, pounding wildly against the other when he started to slow down, his thrusts faltering while he held tighter to me.

My hands were gentle, dancing over his cheeks and pulling him close enough that my lips touched when they moved. “I said I want your baby, _Spencie_.”

He didn’t answer immediately, instead grabbing the hair on the back of my head and forcing me forward. This kiss felt different; tender yet animalistic. If I thought Spencer felt possessive before, this was something else entirely.

I couldn’t breathe, my entire body craving more of him—an impossible amount of him.

“ ** _Do it_**.” I ordered, and Spencer yanked my hair to tilt my chin up. 

From his position above me, he bottomed out inside of me, forcing me down harder against him. I couldn’t stop the way my body shook under him, dangerously close to collapsing into the nothing I wanted to be.

“You think you’re in a position to make demands?”

“You know you want to do it.” I panted. Grinding my teeth together, my hands dragged over whatever skin I could reach. “You want to make me yours forever. Ruin me. _Own me_.”

“ ** _I already do_**.” Spencer spat, forcing my mouth open again with a tight hand over my jaw. “I’ve owned you from the first time you spread your legs for me, and you fucking know it.”

The only initial reaction I had was to moan, my back arching so that the blood on my stomach would equally stain him. If he wanted me to be filthy, then I would. I would show him just how much of himself he hides away. I would show him what he could be with me.

_Himself_.

“Picture it, Spencer. Think about how good it’ll feel to fill me up.” I begged, the tension in my stomach teetering over the edge. “Picture me carrying _your_ child.”

He was silent, but his body said enough. Each movement of his hips was purposeful, driving into me with bruising force. The sweat on his brow mixed with the red that now stained everything. It was a perfect visual representation of where our hands had been.

Spencer’s eyes hadn’t moved from mine, and I could see him following my directions. I saw the fantasies in his head. I put them there, and they belonged to me. He belonged to me, and I belonged to him.

That was the last thought I had before he buried himself to the hilt inside of me, his eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming pleasure we were both trapped in.

My orgasm surprised us both, but I didn’t even bother trying to stop it. Through the heaving breaths and high pitched cries, I managed to get out one last thought.

“You and me, Spencer. We can make our own _happy little family_.”

If you had told me _that_ would be the thing to finally drive Spencer over the edge, I would have struggled to accept the thought. But now that we were here, it made perfect sense. With my hands firmly in his hair, I held his face back against his hardest efforts. I didn’t care if he was tired, I wanted to watch his face when he came inside me.

“ **Fuck**!” He gasped, his eyes struggling to stay on mine while my walls fluttered around him, taking every last drop of him.

“That’s it.” I rasped, feeling the soft, synchronous pulsing deep inside of me. “Give me everything.”

Watching him was more than I could have ever wanted. He threw his head back, baring his neck to me in one final moment of submission. I watched the way his heartrate increased, the veins protruding and his body shaking.

He was so beautiful, so perfect, so very **_mine_**.

Once we finally came down from our collective high, I thought he would need to step away, but he didn’t. If anything, he came closer, resting his face against my shoulder and hair, taking deep breaths of the iron filled air.

“So what now, Spencer?” I asked quietly, gently stroking his hair and the back of his neck. “You gonna take me in?”

“You know I can’t.” He scoffed, nuzzling closer to my neck for a moment before retreating. I immediately missed his warmth when he pulled himself out from me, causing the mixed mess of fluids to slide down my legs.

He took a step back and looked at me, blood and semen smeared and dripping all over of me. His eyes followed the few lines he’d drawn into me with a knife, a darkness and a guilt permeating his gaze.

“Hmmm, it would be hard to explain, wouldn’t it?” I smiled through a pout, sad to see him looking like he regretted something. When I reached out to him, he let me cup his face, and I hid my stomach underneath the stained red, pink, and brown nightgown.

I couldn’t describe the way I looked at him, but I knew he didn’t like it. There was a humor and satisfaction in it; an understanding that we’d both done something and enjoyed something we shouldn’t have.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He whined, looking down and away from me to avoid any stronger emotions. “And go clean yourself up.”

Once again, my heart stopped at the order. I loved when he spoke so simply, because I could tell he knew I would listen.

“Fine.” I said with a sigh, leaning over to pick up the knife that was on the floor. I ran it over my tongue, cleaning the dried blood off and stepping past him. He watched me carefully until I’d dropped it in the sink. Like I couldn’t feel the questions and concern coming from him.

Like I’d kill him now. Like I didn’t have more use for him alive.

I tried not to think about that look, focusing on his reaction to other, more fun things instead. Realizing my clothes were destroyed and my body covered, I decided a shower would be the quickest way to clean up. Part of me felt guilty for not inviting him, but absence makes the heart grow fonder.

I’d never considered that he wouldn’t be there when I got out, and I was right not to worry. Because when I entered my room, there he was, lying naked and as clean as he could be using paper towels and kitchen soap.

“I missed seeing you like this.” I giggled, crawling onto the bed and under the sheets.

His hands gravitated to my hips, helping guide me back over him. I followed, just grateful for the contact. I sat below his hips, my hands running up and down his chest. I couldn’t stop smiling, even though he was staring at me confused and still kind of angry.

I couldn’t blame him; I understood that anger. It might take a little bit of work, but I was sure we’d get through it.

“What’s that look for, Spencer?” I asked, poking him on the nose with a finger. Although he moved away, he smiled.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” The words tumbled from his mouth, his voice breaking and soft. “You’ve had the chance twice. Why didn’t you do it?”

The questions, despite being expected, _bored_ me beyond belief. I’d known he was going to do this. He would read into everything I’d ever done and draw stupid, unfair conclusions.

“I’ve had more than two chances, Spencer. The better question is _why_ would I kill you?” I pointed out, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Because you’re a sadistic psychopath who derives pleasure in the complete domination of men that are attracted to you.” He replied matter-of-factly, furrowing his brow at me like it was an obvious conclusion.

I rolled my eyes but realized that even a genius might need some patience and understanding on this topic. So I lowered myself, hovering above him with raised brows and a patient smile.

“Did I try to dominate you, Spencer?”

“No?” He said it like a question. 

“Did I _derive pleasure_ from you?”

“Potentially.” He joked, “You might just be very good at faking.”

I quickly devolved into a fit of laughter, having to sit back up to cover my mouth. He laughed with me, forgetting for a second what exactly our conversation was about.

“I’m flattered by your humility, honey.” The name caused his hands to jerk, bringing back a memory. I suspected it wasn’t one I knew about. I didn’t want him to dwell on that.

“Why can’t it extend to your profile of me? Isn’t it possible you were wrong about me?”

“Doubtful.” He was so sure, so confident. His hand slid up my thigh, my stomach, and eventually landed on the marks he’d left on my neck. “I got most of it right.” 

“I guess next time you’ll have to let me hold the knife and I’ll prove it to you.” I happily hummed, taking his hand in both of mine and closing it around my neck.

He accepted my offering, tugging me back down to him. “Look at me. This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.”

I could have accepted the answer but decided to press a chaste kiss on his lips, instead. He’d given me access, after all. He almost fell for it, too, his tongue slipping back into my mouth within seconds.

But then he pushed me, holding me just far enough away that I couldn’t kiss him if I tried.   
“You murdered someone for _no reason_.”

“For no reason? I did it for you!” I yelled, thoroughly annoyed and insulted that he would imply I’d end my _five year_ streak over nothing. 

“I didn’t need you to kill her.”

There was no nice way for me to tell him that I did, in fact, need to kill Cat for him. It wasn’t that I didn’t think him capable of it, I was more concerned that he would do it… poorly. And if he didn’t kill her, it would all just take too long. I was tired of waiting.

“You’re just angry you didn’t get to kill her yourself.” I replied with a bitter laugh.

“ ** _No_** , I’m mad because now I have to watch you like a fucking child to make sure you don’t do something stupid again.”

My excitement couldn’t be contained, my body beginning to shimmy against his thighs. His hips bucked ever so slightly, and I wondered how hard it would be for me to convince him to take me again before we fell asleep.

“Watch me? That sounds nice.” I cooed. Prying his hand from around my throat, I lowered it down to just below my stomach to remind him what he’d already partially committed to. “But you don’t have to worry, Spencer. This body belongs to you. You get to decide what it does… and what happens to it.”

Slowly, cautiously, his hand began to wander over the area. I could just picture his thoughts, imagining what I might look like eight months from then.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, whenever you want. I’m _yours_.” I purred, rocking forward until my heat rested against his cock. He hissed at the contact, wrapping his hands around my hips and bringing me closer.

“I’ll never let anything happen that would hurt our _happy little family_.” I promised, sighing at the thought of the two of us bound together _forever_.

Lacing one hand through my hair again, he tore me from my fantasy to give me one final warning. “If you make a single mistake, if you hurt a single person, I will **_destroy_** you. You will wish that you never met me.”

However convincing his threat was, it only excited me more.

“I don’t care if you have my child.” The sentence made me shudder. “Do you understand me?”

“If I haven’t made it abundantly clear already, Spencer… I’d do _anything_ for you.”


End file.
